


Art is Universal

by Stormashke



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:50:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormashke/pseuds/Stormashke
Summary: Everyone has someone they admire.  Everyone has a hero.  What happens when Miranda unexpectedly meets hers?





	Art is Universal

Art is Universal

Andy watched as yet another sycophant approached the Queen of All She Surveyed. Miranda was in her element. Greeting people, as her assistants perched behind her, waiting to descend and save the day. She remembered the feeling well. So close to being valuable. So close to being able to be of use.

That was probably the headiest of all feelings when she was an assistant. The idea that this woman, this icon, would see her as a person. She watched the tide of humanity as it ebbed and flowed around the rock of the Fashion World. She wondered if any of them realized the smile Miranda gave was simply a professional courtesy.

When Miranda was truly amused, her lips quirked in a half smile and her eyes sparkled. It always looked like she was trying to hold back full-on laughter. Andy always wondered what a real, genuine, happy laugh would sound like coming from Miranda.

Out of the corner of her eye, Andy saw a flash of silver. Turning instinctively, she watched a youngish man as he approached the Ice Queen of Fashion. To her complete and utter shock, she saw Miranda's eyes widen as her hands clenched spasmodically against the stem of her flute. As the gentleman in question turned in profile to greet Miranda, Andy recognized him.

"Shit!" Andy moved quickly (but gracefully, in modest two-inch heels that would never have been deemed appropriate the year before at Runway) to intercept Christopher Beckman.

"Mr. Beckman," Andy said a trifle breathlessly, "Andy Sachs with the Mirror. I wanted to tell you how much I admire your work." Andy watched as the Artist turned towards her giving Miranda a much-needed moment to collect herself. "We're actually doing a story on Art in the World of Fashion. I'd love to know what you think of the two and how they relate?"

Andy hoped she could sell the idea to her editor. Miranda would sniff out a fake story in a heartbeat and was likely to blacklist her over the lie. Nodding politely and making a quick series of notes, she noted Miranda looking quite composed just behind him. "Thank you so much for your time, Sir. Miranda, lovely to see you again and I apologize for monopolizing Mr. Beckman."

Miranda raised a signature eyebrow, "Indeed, Andrea. I'd love to see a draft of this fascinating new article of yours. I'll be in touch." Miranda's voice was silky smooth and at its most dangerous register.

Knowing she was as good as dead, Andy could only accept her fate, "Of course." Quickly, she stepped away from the pair.

____

One week later, Andy looked down at her cell phone in absolute horror. She should have known. Seven peaceful days had lulled her into a sense of false security, and now...now it was time to pay the Devil.

Shaking on the inside, she answered the ringing phone that clearly showed up as Runway on her caller ID, "Hello, this is Andy."

"I should hope it would be you, Andrea. Who else should I expect would be answering your phone at 2 pm on a business day?"

Andy's mouth opened and closed several times, "Miranda! Go-good afternoon!" Andy closed her eyes, frustrated as always that Miranda could make her stutter. Her parents had spent good money for ten years on different speech therapists to make sure that didn't happen anymore and Miranda could evoke it with a simple sentence. Where was the justice?

"Good afternoon. I was wondering if you were free this evening to show me this article of yours? I spoke with Jason only yesterday and he assured me it was coming along well."

She couldn't believe Miranda had contacted her editor! She had managed to convince him based on the fact that she had quotes from Chris Beckman himself. The young artist was not known to give interviews at all. So the fact that he had even spoken to her was a feather in her cap.

"Andrea, is there some reason all I can hear is rapid breathing? Have you developed asthma, perhaps?"

Shaking herself out of her stupor, she responded, "Of course not! I'm just a little surprised you actually want to review this article. Where would you like to meet?" Andy scrubbed her hand over her eyes. _Oh that's good, Sachs. Just give in. What happened to that backbone you supposedly grew this year?_ It was all she could do not to groan.

"Oh, I believe the townhouse would be sufficient. Eight o'clock. That's all." Before she could object, she realized Miranda had hung up. As usual.

____

Andy rung the bell at precisely 7:45 that evening. Nervously, she wiped her palms on her jeans. She had dressed carefully, yes, but not overly stylishly. Her jeans were older, but still deep black and comfortable. Her shoes, resurrected from her time at Runway, were 4 inch heels. Her sweater, a deliberate shot across the bow, was her one fashion concession. She spent half a week's paycheck on a new sweater. Cowl neck and just lovely in cerulean blue, of course.

She tried not to jump as the door opened to reveal Cara, Miranda's housekeeper/nanny, "Hi Andy, she's waiting for you in the study. You remember the way?"

Andy nodded and tried not to be intimidated as she made her way deeper into Miranda's sanctuary.

"Andrea, do not dawdle. Come here." Miranda spoke from the small sofa in the room. Blue and white dominated this room. And on each wall was a massive canvas. Each one an original. Each one from the young artist, Christopher Beckman.

Andy entered the room and had the pleasure, for the first time in a year, of having Miranda peruse her outfit. It was almost like old times. As she raised her eyes to glance at Andy, her lips quirked, her eyes sparkled and she nodded just the slightest bit. Andy felt triumphant.

"Sit down, would you like a glass of wine? The white is quite good. Normally, as you know, I prefer red but I thought a change tonight would be nice."

Andy nodded, accepting the glass that Miranda must have poured before her arrival, "Thank you." She sipped carefully, her eyes widening at the flavor. "Oh, you definitely didn't get that from Whole Foods!"

Miranda smirked, pleased with this brave young woman, "No, I believe I chose that bottle when I visited Tuscany, just after the twins were born." She held out her hand to the young woman and, after a moments fumbling in her messenger bag, she placed the hard copy of her article in Miranda's hand. Of course, Andrea would remember she preferred to work with a hard copy versus anything digital. It seemed Andrea actually remembered quite a bit from her time with Miranda.

Putting her reading glasses on, she heard the small intake of breath as she picked up her red pen, "Come now, Andrea. Did you really think I wouldn't?"

"I don't know what to think, Miranda. To be honest, I'm shocked to be here at all. I'm wondering what you're thinking and why you want to see this article at all. I have an editor you know." Andy was proud her voice came out strong, even if it was more defiant than she wanted.

Miranda raised her eyebrow, "The implication being that I am not your editor? I would disagree. And seeing as you mention me through this," Miranda shook the pages at Andy, "I would say I have the right to a little creative control."

Shaking her head, Andy rose quickly, "Oh, no. You're quite welcome to give me your opinion, but you know what? It's my work and I'm free to ignore it. If Jason wants me to change something, then I have to because he pays me. But I'm not going to just cross off something because La Priestly waves her magic red pen. That's not how this works!"

Miranda tilted her head, her lips pursed slightly as she regarded the woman before her. For a moment, it was stalemate. And then, Miranda leaned her head back and laughed.

Andy was astonished as the older woman fairly shook with mirth. Finally, laughter tapering off, Miranda rose and handed the papers back to Andrea, "Very good! I wondered if you had had enough time. Not many actually value their own work enough. If you can stand up to me, then you should have no trouble advocating for yourself." Gesturing back to the article in question, she continued, "This is too good for the Mirror, Andrea. It's a paper, yes. But this type of work deserves a much higher profile than to be shuffled off to the Arts and Leisure section of a Sunday paper."

Confused, Andy sat back down because she was in serious doubt as to whether her legs would continue to support her, "You, you were testing me?" Groaning and covering her eyes, she continued, "Of course you were. Did you even talk to Jason?"

Miranda grinned again, "Of course I did. I simply told him that Runway would pay you better and give you more exposure on a piece that he would have to chop into six paragraphs. Eventually, he agreed."

"Runway?" Andy squeaked, "You want this for Runway?"

Miranda nodded again, "Yes, I want this for Runway. I was impressed with how quickly you stepped in at the Gala. That was very quick thinking." It was as close to a thank you as Miranda was likely to give. Tilting her head to regard the woman before her, she asked, "Why did you intercept young Mr. Beckman?"

"Oh that? Well, it was obvious you weren't ready for him. I mean, I saw your face. And I know how much you enjoy his work. You needed a moment to compose yourself." Andy drew in a deep breath, "After the way I left you in Paris and the recommendation that helped get me my job...well, I couldn't pass up the chance to actually do something for you that would actually help."

Miranda wasn't sure what she expected for an answer, but that Andrea was trying to protect her was not something she would have believed only a few short days ago. She gestured to the walls around her, highlighting the paintings, "His work intrigues me. I actually decorated this room around those works. I bought them and had the entire room redone to suit the paintings. He has such...vision. Bold colors, but with soft strokes. It's a contradiction that works beautifully together. It's that contradiction that I find intriguing. I search for it constantly, in my magazine and in my life. When I find it...I tend not to let it go."

Andy felt her face heat up. "Do..do you find it often? I mean I know you do for Runway. I've seen firsthand what you create every month. But I mean, in other areas. Do you find it often?"

Rising slowly, Miranda shook her head gently, "No, which is why I am so constantly disappointed. But sometimes, that certain contradiction has been known be where I least expect it. Strength of character. Dedication to your work. The ability to bend when you need to, but to also rise to the occasion? Well, that appears to be you, Andrea."

They were standing so near to each other now that Andy was reasonably sure her brain was short circuiting, "Miranda, I need you to understand why I left. The way I left. Do you remember how you felt when you saw Chris coming your way? How you couldn't breathe? Suddenly, it was hard to think and your focus completely narrowed to just him?"

Miranda shifted just slightly to lean forward, rested her hand on Andrea's shoulder, "Yes, it was quite unexpected. And intoxicating."

Andy nodded, "You were a breath away from fangirling, Miranda." She grinned, as she saw the confusion pass through Miranda's eyes. "You were excited to meet someone you admired. That excitement? That feeling of intoxication? That's fangirling. And while it's completely normal for the rest of us mortals....not so much for you." Andy teased gently, leaning her head to brush her cheek against Miranda's fingers that were still resting on her shoulder, "And it was how I felt around you every day for months."

Miranda's eyes got wide as she took in this information.

"Yep, all the stuttering. The clumsiness. The deer in the headlights looks? I had to leave, Miranda. I had to leave so I could eventually grow out of it. I hoped that when I left, one of two things would happen. One, I'd be able to forget you and move on." Miranda turned abruptly and sat down, not at all pleased with that option.

Andy moved to sit beside the Editor, "Or two, I'd be able to mature, grow, and come back to you a stronger person. Someone you could relate to as a peer, if not an equal. I realized quickly you don't need a fan, Miranda. You need a partner."

Miranda felt her heart hammering in her chest. "And you think that can be you?" As Andrea smirked now, Miranda leaned forward, "Aren't you lucky then, Andrea, that I completely agree?"

They leaned forward together, meeting in the middle, for their first kiss. There was no awkward moment of who leaned which way, or whose nose need to be avoided or whatnot. No, it was quite simple. They adjusted. They bent. And in doing so, they came together.

Long moments later, Andy pulled away to whisper into Miranda's ear, "But, I do have to say, it was totally adorable to see you almost fangirling over someone for a change!"

____

Epilogue: One Year Later

Miranda entered into her kitchen to see her fiancee frantically watching the stove and juggling boiling pots of who-knew-what, while the oven chimed for her attention, "Andrea, are you sure you don't need some assistance?" Miranda asked sweetly. She had told the young woman to simply hire a caterer for the evening, but she had refused.

"No, Miranda!" Andy replied, without looking up, "I told you. We only get one first anniversary dinner. I want it to be special! Besides, I got you a surprise and I really can't wait for you to see it."

Miranda gave in, knowing all about her love's stubborn nature by now, "I'll leave you to it, then." She retreated to the dining room and was surprised to see the table set for three. Just as she was about to call out, the doorbell rang.

"Miranda, could you get that please? I'm up to my eyes in gravy in here!"

Andrea sounded so desperate that Miranda chuckled and stepped into the foyer, opening the door. She gasped and immediately covered her mouth with her hand, as Andy spoke from behind her.

"Chris, thank you so much for coming!" Andy leaned past Miranda to kiss the artist's cheek.

"Well, it's not often I get a special commission for the Queen of Fashion. How could I say no when you asked me to bring it by?"

Andy smirked as she watched her love do a pretty good impression of a fish. "Chris, you've met Miranda?" Andy drew Miranda inside so Chris could come in, bearing a medium-sized canvas. "I have the easel set up in the sitting room. Do you want to unveil it now?"

Chris grinned, "Sure Andy. Hey, by the way, thanks for those Yankees tickets you got. My dad really enjoyed the games. The luxury box was a treat. Apparently, being a celebrated artist doesn't garner the perks when it comes to baseball in New York."

Miranda trailed after her fiancee, trying desperately to reconcile the fact that this man was in her home. Apparently, with a specially commissioned piece just for _her_.

Andy finally took pity on Miranda, reaching over to hug her, whispering, "Happy Anniversary! I hope you like it, but you really should say something to Chris before he thinks you don't like him." 

Miranda drew back in alarm as Andrea tried to hold back laughter at seeing her Editor so panicked. "Mr, Beckman, it's a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for coming." Miranda's voice was warm and engaging. Her smile, much to Andy's delight, absolutely genuine. 

The sandy haired young man grinned boyishly at the silver haired woman, "Thank you. I jumped at the chance when Andy offered me the chance to paint specifically for you. Are you ready to see it?" 

Miranda cleared her throat and nodded as Andy grasped her hand. Chris swept the protective oil cloth off the canvas and Miranda gasped. An abstract work painted in jewel tones, the colors swept into a storm of patterns that somehow all worked together. The palette was blues, greens with hints of red and violet. Stepping forward, she reached out a hand drawing just short of touching the actual canvas. She could follow the brush strokes, almost see the flow of the artists thoughts against the canvas. She was entranced.

"I thought it would go well in the bedroom, Miranda." Andy offered shyly. She had asked for the specific color palette, knowing it would complement the neutral tones in their room, but she had left the actual design to the artist. 

"And so it shall," Miranda spoke almost reverently, "Mr Beckman, this is exquisite work. I must thank you. As you can tell, I enjoy your work very much."

Chris nodded, "Please, call me Chris. And so Andy told me. I'm glad you like it. And congratulations on your engagement!" 

Seeing that Miranda was about at her limit for the moment, Andy once again swooped in to save her fiancee, "Chris why don't we go into the dining room. I'm sure Miranda will join us in a moment." 

As Chris headed in the direction Andy had indicated she spoke for the Editor's ears alone, "She just has to get over her fangirling moment!"

____

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I don't own any of these characters. If I did I would certainly share with all of you! Thank you for reading! Inspired by meeting people you admire and what happens when you are the person someone admires. Thank you to AFey and JEHC. My universal cheerleader...that's right I said universal...she cheers for me everywhere! And everyone who has ever had a "fangirl" moment.


End file.
